Decode
by Juliet Hummel-Anderson
Summary: It's the 49th Hunger Games. Blayne's a rude and agressive seventeen year old, and a tribute for District 2. He was raised to not feel emotions. But when Hannah, a small girl from District 4 teams up with the Careers he realizes maybe he does feel.
1. Innocent

_Chapter One: Innocent_

Blayne awoke with a garbled groan as the train stopped suddenly. Remembering the circumstance that placed him on the train, he sat up and rubebed his heavily lashed eyes wearily. Sleeping was basically impossible at this point. After sleeping for days when he should have been discussing things with his team, he felt unprepared for the night. He stood, reaching his full height of 6 feet, and stretched. A loud yawn escaped his mouth and he looked himself over in the fancy Capitol mirrors, not that he was complaining. The seventeen year old was born for this, literally. His mother was a Hunger Games victor, meaning it was in his blood. He wasn't about to disappoint his District.

He was from District 2. Masonry. His broad shoulders and towering stature showed it was true. His partner, a dark skinned girl named Tiffany, was tiny, however. If Blayne cared about her, he'd be worried that her size would affect her chances at winning. Blayne didn't care, he was raised to not care. About anything. The only thing keeping him breathing, in his District's eyes, was training for the Games. He was a sure-fire win, apparently.

Blayne ran a hand through his unruly black curly hair, hazel eyes still bleary with sleep. It was early in the morning, too early for anyone on this train to be up. But sometimes sleep was so out of reach. He pulled on a pair of black pants and a dark red shirt, preferring comfort rather than 'prettying' himself up for the cameras that were surely everywhere. Quickly using the hygiene products the Capitol offered, he slipped on his black boots and opened the door without a single creak. All of his doors at hom creaked.

Stepping down the hallway, he was greeted with his mentor, Wright, a winner from a few years back that everyone called by his liast name, watching the Reapings from other Districts. He was on 3 right then.

Blayne sat beside him without a single word and watched as a petite dark haired, Latina looking girl was called, hair pulled back in a wavy ponytail. Her name was Alex and appeared to be around fourteen. There was almost a gleam in her eye Blayne couldn't place, and he mentally marked her on his threat list. A gangly, tall brunette boy was called, Connor, and he seemed too nice to do any real harm. Both were from the electronic district, a sign they could be somewhat useful to the Careers (whom Blayne already considered himself a part of.)

"What do you think?" Wright asked softly, though all walls were soundproof.

"The girl seems swift. The boy seems like he'll topple over at any second," Blayne mused, being what he thought was honest. He'd never learned that no one was as they seemed.

"I wouldn't count them out," Wright warned. "They could make a bomb that blows you to bits in the blink of an eye."

"Mm," Blayne made a noise of approval. Suddenly the screen changed to District 4, where it was cloudy and windy. It seemed kind of chilly, too, by the sheer number of coats they were wearing. Most of them were dark headed, with light eyes, Blayne recalled from his history books. He watched as a man with silly colors on beam at the District, most who appeared dreary. Though, some did appear like they wanted to be there.

The silly man cleared his throat and said in a high, lilting voice, "Hannah Gay?"

Laughs were heard as a small girl with blonde hair and very pale skin was literally pushed to the front. She looked to be on the verge of tears and people began cheering, a custom for the Career districts, but here it seemed more mocking than congratulatory. The camera zoomed in on Hannah, and Blayne noted with apprehension that her features were quit distinctive. A square, pale face, large, sea green eyes, a small button nose, a pretty mouth. If he wasn't destined to murder her he might find her somewhat decent to look at.

"Tanner Lloyd?" The man said once pulling out a name. Tanner, however, looked like a threat. He also had a strong jawline, with straight brown hair and tan skin. He looked toned, like a fisher. Hannah didn't awknowledge her, just looked out at the crowd. The Reapings continued, and there wasn't anyone of real interest until District 8- fabrics. A curly haired girl was called out as the girl tribute. "Maia Hamilton!"

Blayne whistled. "She must work out, she looks strong, but in a buff way..." he thought aloud.

"She dances," Wright grinned. "People in District 8 don't work out. They dance, or do yoga, or do whatever." Her male counterpart was dark skinned with wavy brown hair, looking completely out of place compared to the blonde people of District 8. He didn't look like he took anything seriously. The Reapings drug on until Wright cut off the television.

"You technically aren't supposed to be watching this," Wright stated. "You shouldn't even be up, actually."

"Couldn't sleep," Blayne grunted out.

"Mm."

"You know, I'm actually worried about that District 4 guy..." Blayne started, but Wright cut him off, a gruff look on his shaved face.

"Don't. Keep in the mindset that you'll win and you will. That's my philosophy."

"Maybe that might not work for me," Blayne said, standing up to go get breakfast, seeing as it was nearing on 6 am.

"It will," Wright said lazily.

"Whatever," Blayne mumbled. He didn't necessarily like Wright, to be honest. He irked him.

"You know you have to prepare for the interviews in a few days!" Wright called out one last time. "Be ready for the stylists, they'll do whatever they want!"

Blayne groaned and grabbed an apple and some water. Basic stuff. Until he saw the table piled high with meats, eggs, vegetables, and pastries. Then he grabbed two plates and stuffed himself until Tiffany walked in, clad in black leggings and firm leather shoes and a long purple tee shirt. She daintly grabbed a plate and got things she knew she liked, before sitting awkwardly across from Blayne. Her short, black hair was pulled back with a headband.

"If I could pick how to die," she started. "It'd be in my sleep."

"Do you trust me or something?" Blayne asked, mouth full.

Tiffany stared at him. "I should at least be able to trust my own partner. If not, then I can just sign my death pardon to get me out of your way. Please. What angle are you going for in the interviews, tall, dark, and stupid?"

Blayne held up his hands in the universal 'I-surrender' geusture. "Chill with the verbal assault."

Tiffany just glared, and stuffed her tiny body with fruit and something called a doughnut. Blayne shook his head. For someone so small she was turning out to be a real threat to his safety as a Career. He couldn't have someon lagging behind him like a puppy for him to win. Maybe being with the Careers wasn't such a good strategy after all...

He rid his head of the thoughts and continued to eat, before Madison, the represenative for District 3, walked in, dressed head to toe in hot pink. "Good morning, tributes!" She perked happily, before saying, "Today we're landing in the Capitol so you can meet your stylists. Trust me, you guys need them."

Tiffany glared and crossed her arms. Blayne rolled his eyes and continued to eat. Man, he was hungry.

"How old are you guys again?" Madison asked.

"Seventeen," Blayne gruffed out as Tiffany mumbled, "Fifteen."

"Great," she smiled. "Well, Wright will be here in a minute to discuss the angles for the interviews and other such pre-Games excitement and publicity and such."

As promised, Wright walked in grumpily and sat himself on Blayne's other side. "Well, I think it's time for you guys to decide what you want to do. Do you want to be coached seperately or together?"

"Together is fine," Blayne said. Tiffany raised an eyebrow. "What? You can trust me."

Wright pursed his lips and changed the subject. "Alright then. Any ideas for the interviews?"

"I want to go for sassy," Tiffany stated. "I want to be the diva and the center of attention. It's not that hard to comprehend."

Blayne tilted his head to the side as Madison smiled. "Perfect!" She said. "You're just like me."

He just said, "I'll be myself."

"So you're going for tough, agressive, and hot tempered?" Wright tried.

Blayne nodded. "Yeah."

Wright sighed. "Go ahead, do whatever, not like I was hired to help you or anything..."

* * *

><p>Blayne stepped out of the train compartment to be greeted with what looked like the bottom of a subway in his history books. Wright led them to a door where they stepped into a pristine white elevator, that immediately took them to an unknown floor.<p>

"Wright!" A girl cried, walking over to where Blayne and Tiffany were. "Are these my tributes?"

"Yes," Wright grinned. "Blayne, Tiffany, this is Carlee. She's the overseer of the stylists for District Four."

"Hi!" She grinned, dark hair flicked over her shoulder. "Blayne, your stylist Quinn is waiting for you. Tiffany, Sam is behind that door. I'll see you later to make final adjustments!" She bounced off, and before Blayne could breathe he was being dragged away to a large, open room with various products in it. Honestly, Blayne closed his eyes and let himself fall asleep (he was so tired) as they did random things to his face, hair, and body. When he was awaken, he was freshly shaved, his hair reached his eyebrows again, and he smelled nicer than mortar and tarmac. His eyebrows were shaped and he was so clean it was unnerving. When Quinn walked in, he had the decency to feel self-conscious.

She was very tall (but not taller than him), and blonde, with pink streaks and overly long eyelashes. "Hello," she said in a wispy voice. "I'm Quinn, and I suppose you're Blayne?"

He nodded. She tossed him some solid white clothes that he quickly put on, before Quinn set him down on a stool and began brushing things on his face, muttering things like, "You have great eyes if you look past all of the hatred in them," and "Let's accent natural colors from your District, like metallics."

When he opened his eyes he hardly recognized himself. His eyes stood out way more than he'd ever thought possible, and he had the sneaking suspiscion his eyelashes had been curled. A very thin line of grey eyeliner was applied, though not enough to stand out. His hair was lightly gelled, so as not to resemble a mess, and surprisingly there was a hint of lip color on his lips. He felt both girly and gross but also he thought he looked kind of good, in a way. He was surprised.

Quinn smiled and pulled a hanging bag out of the closet Blayne didn't know was there. "I made this jacket a while ago and was hoping to be placed on District 4 so someone might wear it." She slipped on the various pieces of the suit and when Blayne opened his eyes (he seemed to be doing that a lot lately) he was shocked. The jacket was studded with tiny pick axes, and it was made with smooth leather.

Quinn grinned at his reaction and hugged him tightly. "Good luck tonight."

A knock was heard and Tiffany walked in, hair curled lightly and light metallic makeup applied to her dark features. She was wearing a wrap-around dress made a shimmery grey material and some towering high heels. Blayne admitted she looked amazing. She grabbed his arm and the two followed dapperly behind Quinn, who led them to Carlee (who was waiting with all of the other tributes.)

From a distance, he saw...Hannah was it?...looking stunning in a dress that imitated the sea. Everytime she moved, it looked like the ocean. Blayne was taken aback when she saw him look at him for a moment, her used-to-be long hair cut into a choppy and layered bob. Her eyes once again drew her to him. No eyes were that shade of green by birth, surely, Blayne thought. Beside her, Tanner was in a white suit with a bowtie that too looked like it was made of the sea. He had a game face on, like he knew what he doing.

"Well, at least we look attractive," Tiffany said. "We have one thing going for us."

"Not really..." Blayne said, letting his eyes graze to that stupid girl from District 4. Damn her and her idiotic self. The tributes were led into the stadium where the live interviews were taking place, and everyone took a seat.

Tiffany rolled her eyes and waited to be called out to be interviewed. District 1 was first, and the girl always went before the guy. She looked like she was going for sexy, with heavy lidded eyes and a revealing jewel-tone dress. Blayne never said she pulled it off, considering she was a twig of a girl. Her name was Reagan.

"Yes, I do love to sing!" She said, sitting inappropriately. The boy tribute from 8 was drooling. The girl hit him. The interview continued on and she wasn't memorable, at all. The interviews dragged on, before it was Tiffany's turn to go onstage.

Everyone clapped for her and the interviewer grinned and the two shared a playful banter. Tiffany was great, Blayne admitted. Too bad he'd kill her the first chance he got. She was sassy yet incredibly genuine. Blayne didn't even wait to be called, just walked onstage, and people clapped for him halfheartedly.

"So," the interviewer began. Blayne knew his name, he just forgot it and didn't feel like finding out again. "What do you think will be your biggest strategy for the Games?"

"Offensive," Blayne said automatically.

"So you're a killer?" He asked, hair ridiculously green.

Searching out a familar face in the audience, he was met with Hannah's eyes peering at him. With a clenching feeling in his gut, he answered, "Yes. Yes, yes of course."

"There's always one!" He joked. "Any family back home?"

"No," Blayne said gruffly.

"Well, you must have something you're fighting for. Come on, tell us one person that you think you're doing this for."

"Besides myself?" Blayne raised his eyebrows. Laughter filled the stadium, though he was being serious. "I am fighting for myself. I need this like I need to breathe. I'm supposed to win, yeah, but that means nothing until I actually do. I really want to show that my District doesn't just get handed things. I want to show that we have to fight, too." And whoa, where did that come from? Oh well, it seemed to work because everyone clapped.

"That's admirable," He sniffed, then said, "Let's give a hand for Blayne!" Everyone clapped more, and Tiffany was nodding. Apparently, he was doing good. "How are you liking the Capitol?"

"They're very..." Blayne stated. "Controlling."

Tiffany's eyes widened and Hannah grinned widely. Damn, what if the camera zoomed in on her? They might get crap in the arena.

"Well..." Ceasar began. "Isn't everyone?" People laughed it off and clapped, though Blayne didn't find it funny. "Looks like we're out of time. Give it up for Blayne, District 2!"

The rest of the interviews zoomed by, and Blayne didn't pay attention to them. Except for Tanner and Hannah's. He was felt with a sense of dread, like he just signed his life away by being himself.

But official training began tomorrow. He had to be ready.


	2. Smile

Chapter 2: Smile

_1 week earlier_

"Blayne Hummel!"

Blayne felt himself grin cockily as he walked onstage of the well-kept District he lived in. Of course. So maybe he entered in the tessarae to get his name in more times. No big. People were clapping wildly and he imagined himself winning. Looking over to see his dark skinned partner, Tiffany, looking kind of intimidated by the prospect of the Games. Obviously, Blayne was thrilled. He was born for this.

He looked out into the crowd to see his short and chubby best friend Owen looking sadly at him, wearing his very best blue sweater. Blayne almost felt bad but washed the feelings away. Feelings were stupid. He smiled once again, letting the camera get a good look of him. He wanted the other competitors to know he was happy to compete. Seeing his mentor Wright stand, he quickly followed Tiffany and Wright offstage to the courthouse, where the families would meet with them before they were whisked off to the Capitol. Blayne kept a stoic face, and secretly wondered what the Games were actually like on the other side of the screen. Every year the Districts watched the Games live and it seemed so glorious, doing whatever it takes to win.

But Blayne didn't want things handed to him. Not like he'd tell anyone, but he wanted to fight for it. Everything was always about the fight for him. As he was being led into the nicely furnished building, he took note of how Tiffany was pacing. Maybe she was more nervous that he thought. She quickly put on a calm persona and plastered a smile on her face as the two were led into seperate rooms. Blayne sat on the leather sofa and watched as Owen walked in slowly.

"Hey man," the short male said, long brown hair falling into his deep puppy dog brown eyes. Blayne pulled his best friend into a hug, not caring if it was considered gay by his District (where being gay was frowned upon greatly), letting Owen cry into his shoulder.

"I'm going to win," Blayne promised.

"I know, and that's what scares me," Owen admitted. "I know that you love fighting and stuff but these are people we're talking about. Not the stones in the alleyways besides the mortar factories. People, with souls and lives and..."

"I'm fine with killing a few people in the way of my victory," Blayne grinned, expecting Owen to grin along with him like always.

"Blayne..." Owen started, then shook his head. "If you don't mind, take this in the arena for me." He handed Blayne a small music note on a silver chain, something Owen always prided himself in. Owen was the songbird of District 2, and Blayne smiled a little at it.

"Thanks man. You take care of my mom while I'm gone, will you? She needs it."

Owen nodded. "My time's up, but I will. Good luck man. I...love you man," Owen smiled. "And I'll tell my girlfriend you say hey."

Blayne smiled lightly once again at the childish joke from elementary school but nodded, knowing if he made one wrong move in the arena it'd be the last time he'd ever see him again. "You too."  
>Owen was gone. Blayne inhaled slowly and watched as his mom walked in, wearing a wary smile on her face.<p>

"I'm proud of you, Blaynie," was the first thing she said before Blayne hugged her tightly and let her cry on him, wetting his light blue button up.

"Mom..." he began, but his words were muffled by her sobs. The entire five minutes were spent with Blayne trying to comfort his mom in any way possible. By the time she was consoled it was time for her to go. She was dragged from the room practically, screaming and kicking. Blayne ran a hand through his unruly black curls and waited a while. Finally, Wright walked in catiously and said, "Okay, man up now. It's time to face the cameras and you want to look strong. What's your token?" Blayne showed him the necklace from his best friend. Wright snorted.

"Seriously? That's not excactly the toughest thing around to have..."

"I don't care," Blayne said gruffly. "I'll carry whatever the hell I want to carry."

"What crawled up your butt and died?" Wright asked, and Blayne didn't respond. The two met with Tiffany and Madison (the represenative) was trailing behind. Tiffany was fingering a small bracelet made of yarn, made by a sister or brother prehaps. Tears stained her cheeks. Blayne didn't awknowledge her at all. Wright looked at the two and said, "We'd better get you on the train to the Capitol. We'll stop a little outside of the Capitol for the chariots."

Blayne recalled the tradition of the chariots. He nodded slightly and was quiet, like usual, as he was led to the train. He boarded it in silence. As he was shown his room, he didn't say anything, but instead plopped into bed and slept. He didn't awake until Madison was shaking him hurriedly.

"Blayne! You have to go to your stylists for the chariots, now!" Madison stage-whispered.

Blayne rubbed his eyes groggily and slipped on some shoes that were by his bed. He noticed he'd been changed into solid white sleepwear. He felt like an Avox. Madison led him quickly to another room on the train. Blayne was half asleep so he didn't notice that it was stopped. He was pushed into a chair and a tall, pale, slender male walked in. He looked a lot like an elf, if you squinted.

"My name's Kurt," he said in an unusually high voice. "And I'm so glad that I got this District. Metallics are in this season, so it gives me a lot to work with. Hmmm..." he hmmed. Blayne, still dreary with sleep, just nodded and let Kurt work.

"You look a lot like my boyfriend," Kurt smiled as he put a scarce amount of gel into Blayne's bedhead. "You even have the same name. Except he's older than you, and more attractive." He laughed like they were best friends and applied dark eyeliner and mascara to Blayne's eyes.

"Whoa, what are you doing?" Blayne asked. "I'm not a girl."

"You also aren't attractive," Kurt deadpanned. "Let me work, just this once, for the chariots."  
>Blayne was fully made up in ten minutes. His eyes stood out against his skin and Blayne grudgingly admitted Kurt knew what he was doing.<p>

In less than an hour, Blayne was clad in shiny patent leather shoes, a suit that looked like it was made of liquid marble, and a black tie. He looked dapper. Kurt patted the tall, broad teen on the arm before walking out, and letting Tiffany in. She was wearing a Grecian-themed dress that too looked like it was made of liquid marble. The two looked great. Blayne smiled and held out his arm for her to take.

"This better not be a thing," she mumbled. The two walked out, following Madison (who had popped out of nowhere) to where the chariots led by various colored horses were waiting. The District 2 chariot was made of what looked like granite and marble. Blayne climbed in before offering Tiffany a hand. He glanced around and for the first time assessed him competiton. Unknown to him, it was a wrong move.

There was a girl.

She was obviously from District 4, as she had those kind of green eyes that could only be associated with that District. Her blonde hair was falling around her neck like a halo. From a distance, Blayne couldn't tell if she was pretty or not. He didn't care, he told himself. He wasn't supposed to. Her dress looked like it was made of pure water as it swirled around her thighs, making her pale skin look darker. She was smiling politely at something her somber and strong-jawed partner was saying.

His breath caught before he dragged his eyes away. He laughed a little as he saw District 8, wearing loud and stand-out outfits made of lots of fabric. They were cleverly made, though, and not at all gaudy. The blonde, curly-haired tribute (wearing green and purple) too was looking at District 4's chariot. The male tribute from 4 was wearing a white suit with a bowtie that also appeared to be made of pure water. Blayne secretly wondered if it was.

Tiffany snorted. "Please, we look better than everyone else."

Blayne grinned and surprised himself by nodding. "Yeah. I guess we look pretty good."

"Shoot, we look fine," Tiffany said, letting on her 'District 12' accent on. It was almost a drawl, with drawn out vowels and overexaggerated syllables. No one except those who had studied lingustics in the upper districts would know.

"It's almost time to start," Blayne frowned, watching as the twig of a girl and snooty blonde haired guy's (dressed in revealing jewel tones) chariot started up. Tiffany held onto to the edge of it as theirs started too. When they got a look at themselves in the gigantic screen projecting across the stadium, he realized how good Kurt was. They looked to be shimmering, almost translucent in the way they reflect the lights. Tiffany is smiling and waving at the crowds, while Blayne stands stoic and seemingly uncaring. He guesses it's his angle. He doesn't know.

Blayne continues to watch the big screen. District 3 is next, with clothes in black and white, almost like computer chips. It was pretty clever, like all of the outfits so far this year. Then when 4 came riding through, Blayne nearly forced himself to look away. The water dress had a skin colored base, with the 'water' flowing around it, and with the lights of the stadium it looked ethreal. He groaned and looked down. He doesn't care, he doesn't care, he doesn't care.

Tiffany looks over at him and he says it one more time. He doesn't care.

And this is where he stands now. Waiting right along with the other tributes for the three day period of training before performing for the Gamemakers and determining his fate as a tribute. Everyone was in lightweight wind pants and a t-shirt, and Tanner was pacing back and forth, which was making everyone else anxious.

"My name's Tanner," he said, looking at Blayne.

"You want me to team up with you?" Blayne asked, cutting to the chase.

Tanner nodded, unconsciously flexing a little. His fellow District member rolled her eyes.

"Excuse him," she said in a sweet voice. "He tends to jump into things."

"Well, you jump over things," Tanner retorted. "And fall and bruise yourself."

She blushed, and when Hannah blushed, she turned beet red. Beet, beet red. Blayne chuckled to himself before becoming silent again. "This is ridiculous..." Hannah said. "Pairing up with people who might kill you."

"Ah, a cynic are we?" Blayne questioned.

"No, I just like to be realistic," Hannah replied, crossing her slender arms.

"When you aren't daydreaming," Tanner said, raising his eyebrows.

"Shut up," she muttered.

"And yes," Tanner continued. "I do want to join up with the Careers."

"How do you know I'm a Career?" Blayne asked, searching for Tiffany. Hannah just looked at him.

"Have you looked at yourself?" She gaped. "You could win, you're obviously a Career."  
>Blayne snorted. "Maybe I don't want to be a Career..." He listened as they were called in to work in stations. He walked into a mini-arena, where different training areas were set up. Many boys went straight to weight lifting and weapons. Blayne decided for the first day he'd throw people of guard by-<p>

He watched as Hannah skipped over to where a hunting and fishing station was.

-making himself seem less awesome than he was.

Blayne followed Hannah to the hunting and fishing station, where a lady in a brightly colored turban was making snares and traps, and knitting nets. Hannah smiled and knitted the net with expert fingers, seemingly not knowing Blayne was there. He was fumbling with the tiny little details of a snare, and grunted in frustration as Hannah finished her third trap.

"How are you so good at this?" Blayne asked. Hannah jumped.

"District 4. Fishing."

"Ah..." Blayne said, returning to the stupid snare. "What do you think the arena will be?"

"I'm trying not to think about it..." Hannah muttered. He took this moment to look her over. On her wrist was a large, thin, brown leather bracelet with a small fish on it, the kind the religious people wear. It was way too large for her tiny wrist. She was biting her lip and her nose would scrunch up a lot. He shook his head again and returned to his snare, that he still couldn't figure out.

Hannah huffed. "Here," she interjected, grabbing his snare. She showed him slowly how to wire it and explained it in slow words, and Blayne understood the basic concept. He quickly strung it together and grinned when it worked. The two worked silently for a while, and when they mastered snares, traps, and nets, the two moved on to where Tanner was throwing spears.

Hannah gulped and grabbed the long, pointy weapon. "Can I pretend I'm killing a bear or something?" She whispered to Tanner, who rolled his eyes.

"You're in the Hunger Games. It's kill or be killed."

"I thought the Bible says not to kill..." Hannah starts.

Tanner snorts. "I'm all for being religious but sometimes you have to take into consideration your own safety. Imagine all the losers that threw rotten fish at you and throw a spear in their hearts."

Hannah gulped and Blayne grinned as he aimed for a target and hit it right on mark. She took a step back and Blayne wanted to laugh. If she only knew how dangerous he could really be. She daintly grabbed a spear and threw it, missig completely. So, Little-Miss-Perfect had a flaw? She hated killing? She was scared of conflict? Hmm...Blayne smiled at the personality flaw and threw some more spears, and once he was bored, grabbed a dagger and practiced throwing it, adding in more tricks to intimidate Hannah.

She apparently wanted to move on because she followed Tanner to where he was practicing camoflauge and such. Here she seemed at home, painting colors on Tanner's face with laughs and smiles. For once Tanner didn't seem to mind Hannah. Soon it was time for lunch, and Tanner sat far away from Hannah, near the District 1 tributes. She looked completely lost. Tiffany noticed and said, "Don't. I'll have to kill her and I don't want blood on my hands. Don't."

"Hey, you can come sit with us!" Blayne called out, and Hannah was joined by the District 3 girl Alex and a boy from District 10, Austin. Blayne had a feeling these were his allies. He felt dread at the thought of Tiffany and Hannah slowing them down. Austin and Alex seemed to both be in shape and they looked very quick on their feet. He was pleasantly surprised.

Hannah was chattering away, a beam of light in an otherwise dreary situation. She never seemed to shut up as she chewed on bread from her District, and some from District 6. Apparently it was pretty good. "I absolutely love this bread!" She said loudly, echoing across the stadium.

"Thanks!" A voice said, plopping down beside them. His nose was extremely crooked and his hair was spiky.  
>Hannah looked taken aback.<p>

"Who are you?" She asked.

"I want to join the Careers," he admitted. He seemed kind of awkward.

"No," Blayne grunted out.

"My name's Caleb," he smiled. Hannah bit her lip and looked at Blayne, who still insisted he leave. Eventually he did leave, only to got bother Tanner's allies, which consisted of Maia, the girl from District 8, and Connor, the boy from 3. He seemed to buddy up with them pretty fast.

"Too many people is dangerous," Blayne said as an explanation to the blonde girl.

"I don't care, it was mean. He was endearing."

"It'll be real endearing when he comes at you with a knife," Tiffany said, taking a sip of water.

Hannah was silent for a moment. One thing was for sure: no was safe when it came to the arena.


	3. Somewhere Only We Know

Chapter Three: Somewhere Only We Know

The next days passed in a blur. A blur of waking up, stuffing themselves, then training. Small talk with Hannah, hardly awknowledging her anymore. She seemed to get more introverted as the days went by. Considering how peppy she usually was, Blayne would've been concerned if they were friends instead of allies.

It was time for the Gamemakers.

"Have you thought about what you want to do?" Wright asked.

"I'm good at stone carving," Tiffany said sarcastically. "I'll carve them a butterfly."

Wright rolled his eyes and continued, "Seriously, though, you need to get a good score to show your competitors you can't be messed with. Blayne?"

"I'm pretty strong..." Blayne said. "But I may just do a snare or something. I've gotten pretty good at it."

Silence.

"A snare?" Wright asked increduously. "A snare. Are you kidding me? You can lift 500 pounds of pure stone and you want to make a snare?"

Silence.

"I don't see why not."

"Better be a damn good snare..." Wright muttered. "Whatever. If you want to place a 2 on your head, then go ahead, but don't whine to me when you die."

"If I'm dead I can't whine," Blayne said, putting his chin in his hand.

"I was right," Tiffany said. "You are tall, dark and stupid."

"I'm six feet tall, around 250 pounds, and I have one of the highest GPAs at my school," Blayne said. "I'll crush you literally or I can come up with mind games that will make you want to die. Tiffany, you aren't my ally in the final hours of the arena. You are the one thing standing between me and living. Don't. Push. Me," he grunted out. Tiffany was silent for a few moments and seemed legitmately intimidated. "That's what I thought. I'm doing some nets, snares, and traps."

"Fine. Tiffany?"

She was silent. "I guess I can throw around some rocks or something heavy. I'm pretty strong."

"Throw some spears."

"Blayne, don't decide her fate for her," Wright said, but he continued to insist.

"I've seen you throw daggers and spears. You never miss a mark. Do that, it's impressive," Blayne said, standing to leave. "I'll see you when we perform for the Gamemakers."

"What does he do all day if not practice?" Wright asked.

"He sleeps," Tiffany said. "I don't blame him. Dreams are better than reality nowadays."

* * *

><p>Blayne stepped in catiously to the arena where the Gamemakers were sitting at a long table, jotting notes and talking quietly. He cleared his throat and some of them were intimidated. He grinned wickedly and said, "My name's Blayne and I'm the male tribute from District 2."<p>

They motioned for him to start and he grabbed some brown peices of rope. He quickly strung together an effective net. Looking up he saw they weren't impressed. His quick temper started up for the first time in years and he added some spikes to the ends, making it a semi-deadly weapon, then threw it at the Gamemakers. One of them looked on in surprise as it covered him, barely moving so the deadly spikes wouldn't puncture him.

Marks were made, but no more murmurs were heard. He constructed a trap for a large animal and watched as he threw a rock into it and it snapped, killing whatever would've been in there. Finally, remembering the simple technique from Hannah, he constructed a snare. He felt somewhat confident in a high score, but then again, no. Blayne looked up to see the Gamemakers in shock.

"Where did you learn that?" Head Gamemaker Schuester ask. "I thought only District 4 used that kind of weaving..."

Damn. Just damn it all to hell.

"Uh..." He started, for once having no idea to what to say in the situation. "I may have picked up a few tricks in the training days..." He knew allies this early on were not allowed. He knew teaching other tributes things from your District was not allowed, considered illegal even. He may have gotten Hannah into serious, serious trouble.

"Right..." Schuester said, raising his eyebrows. "I'll keep District 4 in mind. Thank you for your time."

Blayne stormed out of the room and punched the nearest wall. Why was he so stupid? Why? He may have just messed everything up. Everything. He slid down the wall and just sat there for a moment, taking it all. It hit him.

The Hunger Games weren't games at all, in a way. People were going to die, some because of him. He was going to take away lives. Him. If he wasn't supposed to care, he kind of did. But feeling anything only led to worse fates than death, Blayne's learned. Feeling means weakness. Feeling means losing.

Blayne had no clue how much time had passed until Wright came to get him. "Blayne," he started, "They're about to release the scores. Come on." He sounded calmer than Blayne had ever seen him. He got up slowly and realized that he towered over Wright. He usually towered over everyone. Tiffany was curled up in a ball on the floor when the scores were posted on the TV.

District 1 was always first. Reagen earned herself an 8. Pretty good, actually. The boy (Dallas, appaently) earned a 9. Both were pretty good scores. Then it was time for Blayne and Tiffany.

Tiffany had a 7. She seemed devastated. Blayne, however, scored himself a 10. A 10. It's extremely high, and shows that he is someone to watch out for. He grinned, pleased with the score. Tiffany was livid. "Were you trying to throw me under the bus by telling me to throw some stupid spears?"

"Did you throw the spears?" He asked.

"Well, no, but-"

"Exactly," Blayne said. District 4 scores were coming on. Tanner earned a 9. Very good.

But Hannah...she had a 4. A four. He could see her confused face from a mile away. Tears were forming in her eyes. Would anyone sponser her now? Would anyone help her? With an unfamiliar feeling in his gut, he came to the conclusion it was his fault. He lowered her score by revealing that he learned something from her.

A four.

The only other exceptional score was from District 8. That girl Maia? She had a 10, too. She and Blayne scored the highest out of anyone. Meaning they'd get more help from sponsers, and maybe the Gamemakers might keep them alive for a little while longer. He should feel absolutely elated but instead he feels that unfamiliar feeling again. He couldn't put his finger on it.

And now the scary part was approaching: the arena that they would enter tomorrow. Of course, all of the tributes were invited to a huge feast. Dressed in their best (the Capitol's best) it gives them a false sense of security the night before their possible deaths. And lots of tributes died in the bloodbath that was called the Cornicopia.

It had been three hours since the Gamemakers' scores. Blayne decided to go simple, with a clean cut black suit and a thin black tie. Tiffany had chosen a dark blue A-line knee-length dress and patent leather pumps. Apparently she'd been checking in on her Capitol fashion. The two walked silently to where the feast was, and people were scattered about the fancy reception hall. Blayne bit his lip as he saw Hannah talking to someone who also had a lower score in a corner. Seems like her District mate didn't want to team up with her anymore.

He walked over (once again with that weird feeling in his chest) and said, "Hey."

She was wearing a white shift dress and some brown heels, looking out of place and confused. "You probably don't want to partner up with me, and I understand," she said bitterly. Blayne was right from the beginning; she was kind of cynic.

"I want to partner up with you," Blayne said, surprising himself.

"Why? I'm just the little girl that threw spears and made a fool of herself. I might as well sign a death wish..." She said tearfully. Whether the tears were real or for show he hadn't figured out yet.

"You threw spears?" Blayne gaped. "I taught you to throw spears."

"I know..." her face tinted red. "I got kind of good. I still don't want to kill things. But..."

"I get it. I made snares," he continued, waiting for the response. It didn't come. Hannah stood still, and she looked pissed.

"Let me guess, you used the technique I showed you?" Hannah nearly spat out. It was the first time he'd seen her lash out at anyone, really. Guess she got mad, too. "Nice. You were just using me? Are you using me now, pretending to be on my side until you corner me and brutally murder me?"

"No, no!" Blayne protested, when in fact, he had considered it. But face to face with it seemed so wrong. He'd never had morals before, and for some reason he felt weird suddenly gaining them before the least moral thing the Capitol had to offer. "Look, Hannah, I didn't mean to use you like that."

"Oh, so you admit you used me?" Hannah said, with a smirk to rival Blayne's own. It was official; she zigged when Blayne thought she would zag.

"No," Blayne said through gritted teeth. "I'm giving you the only apology you'll ever get out of me. I'm sorry. I do want to be your partner, because believe it or not, you need me unless you want to die."

"I can do things by myself," she protested. "I don't need to rely on a man to do everything for me. I am am independant person and I don't need any-"

"Yes, you do," Blayne rolled his eyes. "Don't argue with me, I'm always right."

Hannah stared. "I'm always right," she retaliated.

"At first I thought you were sweet, but in reality you're freaking stubborn as a mule and you get on my every last nerve," Blayne mumbled, rolling his eyes. "Look princess, the arena isn't like walking in a park. It's hard and you're going to die, face it."

She glared and gaped and tried to protest, but Blayne continued, "So look at your options. You can join me and the Careers and live for a few more weeks or try and tough it out and live for say, oh, two days."

"Are you offering to let me join or forcing me?" Hannah asked, crossing her arms.

"Depends on your point of view," Blayne smirked. Hannah rolled her eyes and grudgingly agreed.

"When we get into the arena," Hannah started. "Please make sure I don't die." She bit her lip.

Blayne sighed and sat on one of the upholstered couches. Hannah sat beside him with a curious look. He turned to her and said, "I promise you," he said, "I will do everything in my power to make sure you stay alive. As long as the Careers are alive, you will be, too." He took a deep breath and looked at her naive face and asked, "How old are you again?"

She laughed loudly and said, "I'm fifteen. I'm not a twelve year old or anything."

Well, Blayne could definitely tell that. He chuckled a bit then fell silent, once again feeling that weird feeling in his chest. He awkwardly stood and said, "Well, I've had enough of this feast. See you tomorrow. Look for me in the arena, and I'll try and find you." He left a dumbfounded Hannah when he left to go to his room. Sleep would be impossible once again.


	4. Haunted

**Chapter Four: Haunted**

It was time.

Clad in a black tee shirt and loose, gray basketball shorts and thin, slender shoes that were made of cool material, Blayne waited impatiently beside Tiffany, wearing the same outft, except her shorts were short. The outfit was comfortable, yet confusing. Maybe the arena would be a desert. Tiffany was pacing again and she was running her hands over her short, black ponytail she was required to have for the Games.

"I'm about to die," she reapeated as a mantra. "I'm about to die."

"Way to be hopeful," Wright said, pulling them in for a hug. "Don't let them get to you. Both of you are fighters, and if you can survive the bloodbath, you have a good chance of winning anyway. And please, please be smart. Loosing your head in there is like signing a death sentence." Another hug for each of them. Quinn and Kurt hugged them tightly and smiled. Tiffany and Blayne looked to each other and shook hands.

"Good luck," she said earnestly.

"You too," Blayne responded.

"Ok, it's time," Wright said mournfully. "Remember: keep your head."

"And our lives," Tiffany mumbled, clutching her leather bracelet. Blayne gripped at the music note tightly and walked out to where the platforms were in the arena. Closing his eyes at the flash of white light, he looked around at his surroundings.

An island. The platforms were hovering over water. They had to swim to even reach the gleaming, shiny Cornicopia on the island. It had a dense jungle in the center of it, filled with who knows what. Blayne gulped and waited until everyone else began to dive into the swirling water before jumping in himself. He opened his eyes and saw jagged spikes in the water, so anyone who couldn't swim was doomed. He saw Hannah swimming a ways off and quickly chased after her, occasionally getting some oxygen. He already saw people climbing on shore when he reached Hannah, her short blonde hair falling around her face. She looked scared out of her mind.

When she noticed Blayne she visibly relaxed, grabbing his hand and swimming the two to shore, where the immediately went into defense mode. Beside them, a blonde boy got stabbed in the throat by a viscious looking Tanner, who simply glared at them. He almost made a move for Hannah but backed away suddenly, as Blayne went into reflex mode. The three quickly split ways, and Hannah was grabbing things as Blayne fended off attackers with a flimsy spear he found by the shore. A green backpack, some sunscreen, a pack of crackers, and some beef jerky was seen in Hannah's hands, and Blayne went into attack mode as he stabbed some guy in his chest when he tried to attack the two. Blood spurted out, coating Blayne's hands, who began grabbing more weapons as they got closer to the Cornicopia.

Hannah began crying as she observed the dead bodies, and Blayne triumphantly smiled as they reached the Cornicopia. Alex was there, with Austin and Tiffany, who looked pretty bad. They all had something in their hands, and most of them were weapons. Seeing people grabbing things and running, they decided to let them all go, assessing the overall damage. The boy from District 8 was crumpled in a ball, clutching something underneath him. Blayne whistled slowly and looked at the white, sandy beach stained with red.

Hannah was fanning herself in the sweltering heat. "We need to relocate," she breathed. "Now." Maybe they were Careers but they were still at risk.

"Are we the Careers?" Alex asked, her Latina features contorting in the bright sun.

Hannah shrugged, remembering the scary look on Tanner's face, and opened up her lime green backpack. The color was atrocious but what was inside was not. "Sunglasses," she grinned, "and some basic foods. Dried fruit, crackers, and there's even a thin silver blanket! It's made of some weird material..." She put the items back in the bag and looked at what everyone else had gotten. In haste Alex had grabbed a dagger, some knives, matches, and some string. Hannah smiled and put them in the bag, too, along with her crackers, sunscreen, and her beef jerky. "Anyone else?"

The only thing Blayne had was a bloodied spear and, for some reaon, a piece of paper was in his hand. When that had gotten there, he had no clue. Tiffany had grabbed some invaluable things like a water canteen filled with clean water, and a small vial of something medicinal. Maybe aloe? Austin only had a small first aid kit, with band aids in it. All of the items were packed in the backpack. Hannah was unnaturally calm as she dodged the bodies and wet the lime green bag in the sea water surrounding the island, then rolled it in the sand, making the color less obvious.

"There," she smiled. "Now we should scope the island. It has to be pretty big from what I could tell."

"Wait, hold up," Tiffany retorted. "Who died and put you in charge?"

"About a third of the tributes, actually," Blayne said, saying something for the first time in around thirty minutes. "Hannah, are you okay?"

She was swaying slightly and looked kind of green. "Nothing, I just hate blood. Let's go, now," she said quickly, trying to walk away. Blayne caught her arm.

"You will not live ten minutes if you leave our group."

"And we don't really want to go anywhere, no offense," Austin said.

"I'm staying," Alex agreed.

"Me, too," Tiffany said, plopping herself down on top of the Cornicopia's floor. Blayne sighed and shrugged.

"Hannah, we should relocate," he muttered, grabbing the girl's shoulder. "Guys, we're relocating. I thought we were allies, but I guess not." Hannah looked pleased, and smug, and Blayne thought that maybe he shouldn't agree with her as much, so as to lower her inflated ego.

"You guys are making the biggest mistake ever," Alex said, looking through the pickings of the Cornicopia.

Hannah shrugged and grabbed the backpack, hair still dripping from the unexpected swim. Her thin arms were gripping it like a lifeline. "I'm scared," she whispered after they'd walked into the dense jungle on the center of the island. He was too, if he admitted it. Anything could be in here, sudden death could be lurking around any corner. It was terrifying.

Blayne guessed the fact he just killed someone had hit him yet. Maybe he'd never feel bad for it, when it did hit him. All he was concerned about was making sure Hannah didn't die. Right now they were allies, and Blayne couldn't break his word the petite girl, who'd get killed if he ever left her. He hoped he died before he had to kill her. Would he let her win if it came down to it? He wasn't sure. Yeah, maybe they had a psuedo-friendship going on, but that seemed a little strange, to let someone else take his life when he could live and take theirs. Even if the person had eyes like Hannah.

In the jungle, it was sweltering. Seriously, Hannah was sweating through her thin tank top and shorts. She was limping slightly though didn't seem to be bothering her if she wasn't complaining. She seemed like a complainer. Blayne was unaware of what time it was, though the heat seemed to be getting better, meaning the sun was going down. Hannah sat on a tree log and said, "I'm tired, thirsty, and hungry."

"Me too," Blayne said, listening to his growling stomach. As he lived in the upper Districts, he'd never really gone without a meal before. The Hunger Games would really mean hunger for him. Hannah opened up the sandy backpack and pulled out a few crackers and the canteen of water. Blayne gaped as he was handed three crackers. "Seriously?" He asked, looking at the food in his hand.

"We have to ration," Hannah said. "We never know when we'll get food again."

"We could catch fish," Blayne protested, but Hannah just grinned.

"All of the fish, if any, were scared away by all of our swimming. We have to wait at least a day before fishing," Hannah said knowledgeably, looking around the dense jungle, covered with vines and suspcious looking flowers. She opened the canteen and took one sip of water before handing it to Blayne, who awkwardly took one too.

"Get used to sharing saliva until we find another water source, or another another canteen," Hannah said grimly.

"Why are you suddenly deciding you want to be in charge?" Blayne asked hoarsely, throat still dry.

She blinked. "Someone has to."

"Why you?" Blayne asked, holding out a hand to help Hannah up. She looked taken aback and grabbed it hesistantly. The two continued to walk, not making any noise on the grassy ground. The shoes helped a lot, too. Hannah brushed a dirty strand of blonde hair out of her face and wished desperately for a headband. She sighed.

"I guess I just like being in control," Hannah admitted. "I can't be ridiculed if I control everything."

"You can't control people," Blayne said. "You just can't." The two walked silently through the seemingly neverending woods until it became too dark to see. Hannah was at loss for words as to where to sleep. It was an awkward situation for everyone. Blayne grinned and pointed up.

"You want us to sleep in midair?" Hannah asked.

"In the trees," Blayne smiled, propping up against one in the dark. "It's safest." He began to climb up a pretty solid one before Hannah whispered, "Blayne! What if there are poison frogs in it? Or deadly spiders?"

He grinned from a lower branch of the tree. "At least we won't be murdered. Death by poison in our sleep seems a better option than being exploded or having our eyes forcibly taken out by a dagger." Hannah paled in the moonlight and Blayne stopped joking.

"I can't climb trees..." Hannah said tearfully. "I'm sorry, I guess I'll keep watch down here or something..."

"No," Blayne said. He hopped fifty feet down to the ground and, out of breath, said, "Someone will kill you. We're on the same side, remember?" He quickly grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder, and placed his hand over her mouth so she wouldn't scream. She manuevered herself so she was on his back, so as not to fall to her death.

"You are absolutely ridiculous! If I die, I will come back from the dead to kill you, too!" She said threw gritted teeth. Blayne chuckled and thought she would provide the audience some comic relief. Oh yeah. They were being filmed. Someone just saw him do that, and they can hear everything he's saying. Crap. The two reached a sturdy branch pretty high up in the tree, and they were concealed by the thick leaves. Hannah was gasping for air and was livid.

"I hate you," she mumbled.

"Nope, you love me," Blayne smirked. Maybe the audience likes playful banter.

"Screw you..." Hannah groaned, streching out.

"Not on camera, I hope," Blayne said, and sure enough, a little parachute with a basket was dropped down into the tree. Hannah looked in awe.

"Sponsers..." she breathed before tearing open the basket. Inside was a medium sized brown backpack, and it was much better than the green one. Blayne grinned as he saw another canteen and water purifier drops, plus a small vial of something yellow. Hannah looked at it curiously, then gasped.

"It's poison," Hannah groaned. "District 4 style. We coat our fish crates with it. I think we should poison the bottom of the tree..." she whispered. Blayne nodded, but then the signal to show the dead that day sounded. Looking through the branches, Hannah and Blayne watched as around ten faces flashed across the sky. That means fourteen people remained. That was a lot. More than Blayne wanted to be alive. Hannah bit her lip as the screen diminished. She grabbed the small vial and quietly crawled down the tree, Blayne rolling his eyes in the background.

"Always wanting to be the hero..." he murmured, before checking on the pint-sized girl to make sure she wasn't dead. She had dipped a stick into the vial and was spreading it all over the tree. He remembered she couldn't climb back up so he steadily, and hopefully quietly, climbed down it to assist her.

He watched as more poison was laid at the foundations of the tree. Hannah heard a slight crunch of leaves and quickly grabbed onto Blayne's arm, who hadn't heard anything. "What are you doing?" He asked, amused. She shook her head and put a finger against her lips. She pointed up to the tree and he picked her up to climb back up the tree. Unfortunately, it meant they were slower, so when a few of the lower District's tributes walked tiredly past the huge tree, they had to book it...

"Oh crap crap crap..." Hannah muttered, sighing when they reached the top of the tree, where a huge branch was holding their few belongings. She fingered her oversized bracelet slowly, peering down at the tributes. There seemed to be about six, so three districts had allied together. She recognized two from District 11.

"Let's sit down," a redhead muttered, spotting Hannah and Blayne's tree. Hannah gaped as he leaned up the poison-coated tree and two others joined them, all three (one a very small girl) falling over, motionless the the contact. Hannah was quiet for a while after the Capitol collected to bodies and the few allies remaining from the previously allied Districts ran, muttering warning about poisoned trees.

"I just killed three people," Hannah said, curling up into a ball. "If I can't sleep and I wake you up, I'm sorry."

Ah, sleep. Blayne's favorite thing in the world. He leaned up against the trunk of the tree and dozed off, eventually falling into a somewhat deep sleep. It was dangerous to sleep too deeply in a place like this, and Blayne guessed his body knew it. At a time right before the sun arose, he blinked his eyes open to see Hannah rummaging through the brown backpack, looking for something unknown to Blayne. She seemed to cut her hand on something sharp and Blayne was startled.

"Ow..." she mumbled, holding up her hand, which was pretty much sliced through. Blood was pouring out of it and Hannah looked on the verge of tears. Blayne, bleary with sleep, crawled over to Hannah and looked at the bleeding wound. "What'd you cut it with?" he asked sleepily.

Hannah shrugged and looked. Inside was a knife, pointing straight up, traces of Hannah's blood dripping down the sides. Blayne gingerly pulled it out and tucked it into the waistband of his basketball shorts. "Hey..." he mumbled, observing them once more. On the inside lining of the waistband of his shorts was almost like a belt, with little loops meant for holding daggers or knives. He grinned and stuck it in there, surprised that the blade didn't cut him. Apparently they were designed well.

However Hannah was in a lot of pain and was losing blood fast, so Blayne pulled out the small first aid kit from a pocket inside of the brown backpack. The sun was beginning to peek over the trees, and in the faint sunlight Hannah looked very pale. He dug through the tiny container, frustrated, and didn't find any gauze. Instead he washed the wound with some water from the canteen, and patched it up with pretty much all of the band aids.

"This thing is useless..." Blayne complained when he was done.

Hannah bit her lip and brushed hair out of her face, saying, "I could've done that."

"No, you couldn't have," Blayne responded, exasperated. "You were half asleep."

"I didn't even go to sleep," Hannah muttered, "but the point is that I can do everything by myself, I don't need help."

"Freaking stubborn as a mule..." Blayne groaned, stomach growling loudly. Hannah glared and handed him some packaged fruit.

"Eat so your stomach won't let our enemies know where we are," Hannah said, taking a few crackers for herself. She could handle a little while without food, at least until they could fish. She planned to use the light string they technically stole from Alex, Austin, and Tiffany to make a somewhat decent net to catch some fish in. Maybe there would be good fish in the sea surrounding the island. Hannah took a swig of water and Blayne did the same, leaving around half of the canteen left.

"We can use the water purifier on the sea water, maybe," Hannah suggested, yawning.

Blayne raised an eyebrow. "If you say so..."

The two realized that they weren't alone, however, when the faint smell of smoke drifted up past the tree, darkening the sky.


	5. Safe and Sound

**Crappy District 4 lullaby is crappy. I'm sorry for my horrible songwriting.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Five: Safe and Sound<p>

Tanner grumbled to himself as he allowed Maia to make the fire. He would never do it, it was incredibly stupid. But when she batted those freakishly long eyelashes and those blue eyes filled with determination, he just gave in. Wimp. He groaned again as she let the fire get larger, and she placed a tropical bird's dead and skinned body over the fire. He watched as she cooked it slowly, and hoped and prayed no one would try and attack them because of the spiraling smoke rising into the treetops. He heard the slight rustling of branches above him and thought nothing of it.

Maia had tied her incredibly thick, blonde curly hair back in a half-hearted braid, and she was trying without fail to get it out of her face. Tanner watched in mild amusement as she quit frustratedly, and plopped herself back down on the ground. He heard the distinct rustling again, but once again brushed it off as simply the wildlife.

"Where do you think the other tributes are hiding?" Maia asked, looking at one of their allies, Caleb. He looked pretty rough, with scratches all over his face and a slight limp. He and Connor, the boy from 3, were sitting beside Maia as she continued to attempt to cook.

Caleb shrugged and said, "Don't know. We've basically traced the whole island, and we haven't run into anyone yet." He ran a hand through his grimy hair, which lay flat against his forehead, as opposed to the spiky hair he had during interviews and training.

Connor grinned as Tanner handed him an apple and a piece of the bird, which according to Maia, was done. "Yes, food..." he mumbled through bites. Maia rolled her eyes as Connor spit out the bird, gagging. "That's absolutely disgusting..."

Maia sighed and said, "Why don't you try keeping us alive, then? You all think I should since I'm the girl, when in reality, you all should be gentleman and cook decent food."

Tanner grinned and raised his eyebrows. "You want us to be gentleman in a game where we kill each other?"

Caleb grinned and laughed quietly. "I have a hit list. First up is that black haired beast from 2."

More rustling, a faint whisper. Now Tanner was concerned. He stood and looked around, but mostly looked up. He didn't see anything, but that didn't mean no one was there. He motioned for his spear and Connor placed the finely tuned weapon into his hands, and Tanner watched as a quick little shape darted across the treetops, then a larger, slower one moved, too. He squinted his eyes in the early sun and tried to make out the shapes. He couldn't, though. He couldn't see anything or anyone.

And that's when something fell from the trees, and about three inches away from the fire.

* * *

><p>Blayne watched in horror as Hannah took one wrong step as they sneaked through the trees. Her mouth formed a scream as she hit the ground, and Blayne felt himself get a gut-wrenching feeling in his chest that it was the end, that it was all over for not only her but him, too. He jumped next to where she landed and pulled out the dagger, circling around Hannah, who was laying on the ground, not moving.<p>

Tanner was rearing back to stab her when Blayne tackled him to the ground, punching the life out of him, waiting for blood, wanting some blood on his hands. When Tanner looked properly bloodied, he looked around at the member of Tanner's group. Caleb was standing in wide-eyed fear, and Maia was gripping onto Connor with the same look. Fear. Blayne thrived off of it. He strode over to Hannah, and took her head in his hands.

"Does your head, neck, spine, or back hurt?" He asked in an even voice, looking up every so often as if daring them to attack.

She shook her head slowly and said, "I just feel...really sleepy..."

"For the love of everything good in the world, don't go to sleep right now..." Blayne mumbled to himself. Hannah nodded as Blayne gently pulled her to her feet, and even though she swayed, she seemed to be okay. The backpack was on her back, and

Blayne pulled the other knives out of it. "Look, we're at a stalemate..." he said. "You can join sides with us, or I can kill someone. You pick."

Caleb stepped foward, agreeing to join. "Fine," he said. "I'll keep my life for a while longer."

Maia and Connor stepped foward lightly, and Tanner, fending for his bloody nose, grudgingly agreed. "We're all on the same side then," Blayne said through gritted teeth. He ushered Hannah to where Caleb was standing, not holding anything. "I need you to carry her for the time being, at least until she stops feeling sleepy." Caleb, scared out of his wits, took the small girl awkwardly and looked to where Maia was huddled near Connor.

"Let's move," Blayne said. Tanner glared but grabbed his group's things and followed behind him carefully. Connor kept an eye on the surrounding area the group silently but steadily made their way to the edge of the island, where Tanner and his group had been traveling. Blayne let Tanner lead the way eventually, but only to check up on Hannah. Not that he seriously cared about her or anything. She was just a stepping stone to his victory.

It was around noon when Maia brought them to a screeching halt. She stopped suddenly and leant down towards the ground, where a hardly perceptible string was loosely trailing along the ground. She motioned for a stop and quietly threw a rock over it, and where it landed a huge spear stabbed the ground. Maia looked on in horror as a few tributes from the lower Districts, all looking fiercely competitive, came out of the bushes with weapons ready to kill. Blayne raised his eyebrows and pushed Caleb (who was carrying a muttering Hannah) behind him as he pounced on the foes.

He planned to kill. He snapped some necks and when the timing was right, grabbed the spear from the ground and stabbed the remaining alive. Four cannons sounded off and Blayne's pseudo-allies looked on in shock. Hannah coughed and stood, walking confidently over to Blayne.

"I think I can walk by myself now," she said stubbornly, not letting herself become weak or looked down upon. She looked away from the dead bodies as she stepped over them, stumbling slightly but catching herself as she continued on the path. A tense silence was acquired as they walked the remaining distance to the beach, Hannah in the somewhat-lead. The temperature was dropping by the second and Blayne watched as everyone around him started to shiver.

"It can't get too cold, I don't think," Connor said reassuringly. It didn't help.

Hannah ran fingers through her grimy hair and plopped on the white sand, looking out onto the sea. "Just build a fire," she mumbled. "It may reveal our whereabouts, but I think we should be warm, too." Maia shrugged and built a fire, and the smoke was concealed by the night sky. The light it gave off and the crackling sound wasn't, however, and Tanner gritted his teeth as the not-at-all merry band of misfits ate little by little, rationing for later. Maia, Tanner, Caleb, and Connor all had a plethora of food but not much else, so they were excited to see what Blayne and Hannah had.

"Let's see if the water will de-salt if we boil it," Hannah said, grabbing a canteen and running to the ocean shore. She dipped it in the ocean, only to retrieve her hand as many, many, many fish came swarming towards her. She remembered her hand, how it was split open earlier that morning, and wondered if the fish wanted her blood. As the silvery teeth glinted in the moonlight, still bared in the many fishes' mouths, Hannah realized it was true.

"Blood seeking fish in the water," she mumbled. "Tried to get me, but I got away. Boil the water then let it cool," Hannah said, teeth chattering in her flimsy tank top and shorts. Blayne grabbed some pieces of a large tree trunk to fashion some seats and the group sat around the fire, Hannah sitting primly beside Blayne.

"You know, you're stronger than I thought," Blayne admitted when Maia, Connor, and Caleb had all nodded off to sleep, resting in the sand. Tanner was staring broodingly at the horizon, carving off pieces of bark from the same piece of wood. Maybe it was just to keep his hands occupied.

"How so?" Hannah asked, green eyes blinking rapidly as she stifled her yawn.

"Well, you aren't weak," he smirked, chuckling to himself. The silence was back.

"Do you think I'll ever see my family again?" Hannah asked, looking away, as if to hide the emotions Blayne could clearly read. She wore her heart on her sleeve.

"I don't know," Blayne admitted. "But if I'm honest, if it were down to you and me, I'd-" He stopped suddenly. "I'd definitely let you go home."

OK. Slow down, where did that come from? That weird feeling was in his chest again, what in the world was going on? He gulped and watched as Hannah looked at him in surprise.

"Really?" She asked increduously.

"Tell me about your family," Blayne said, changing the subject.

"I have a mom," she began. "My mom is most likely the best fish carver in all of District 4. She loves to entertain my brother and my sister with little fish tales, little folk tales about fish. She's quite knowledgable and she has the prettiest singing voice in our District," Hannah smiled. "My dad is hardly home. He's a round-the-clock fisherman, so he's constantly gone. My sister is two and my brother is ten."

Blayne slid from the wood to the sand and motioned for Hannah to follow. The two rested easily against the seat Blayne had made and he said, "They sound amazing."

"They are," Hannah bit her lip. "But I feel like I have nothing else to fight for. Shouldn't there be something, someone to fight for?"

She asked, eyes glistening. "You probably have some girl back home to fight for, I'm sure..."

Blayne grinned. "Nope."

"Lying isn't nice," Hannah sighed, turning away from Blayne. He nudged her in the side and smiled.

"I'm serious, there's no one back home for me," Blayne said solemnly. "Everyone I can depend on is in this arena."

"You?" Hannah asked, unconsciously sliding closer to Blayne, who slung an arm around the girl and leant his head on hers. He nodded slowly, taking in the smell of her hair. While it was greasy and unwashed, it still managed to smell like cotton, or something equally fresh. He closed his eyes and Hannah grinned.

"If you wanted to smell my hair you could've asked," she grinned. Blayne would've responded, but the sky went alight with the daily deaths. There were six total deaths that day: the four Blayne killed, one unimportant girl from District 9, and Tiffany. Tiffany. Blayne felt himself nearly puke at the thought of his pretty and sassy partner dead, on the ground. He looked at an expectant

Hannah, then scooted as far away from her as possible.

"I'll keep watch tonight," he muttered. Hannah wouldn't have it, however, and placed a hand on his shoulder. The crackle of the fire was still evident.

"It's ok to feel sad," she tried, but Blayne shrugged the hand off.

"Shut up, you don't know what you're talking about," he snapped, immediately regretting it. Hannah reared back as if she'd been hit and he glanced as her eyes teared up.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" she asked quietly, curling up into herself. Across the campfire, Maia stirred, and Tanner was immediately looking in her dierection.

"No," Blayne said, turning fully to face Hannah, and he said, "You aren't stupid."

"Thanks," she said. "Everyone in my District thinks I'm stupid."

"If they they're the stupid ones," he tried, and Hannah cracked a smile for the first time since the Games started. Blayne cleared his throat and slumped into a laying position, looking up at Hannah, who raised an eyebrow.

"Are you going to sleep now?" Tanner called out. "I'll keep watch and wake you in a few hours."

Blayne grinned and watched as Hannah nodded and laid down carefully beside him, scared to get too close. "You said your mom was one of the best singers in your District," Blayne tried. "Will you sing for me?"

"I'm horrible..." Hannah said, turning to face Blayne. "But what would you like to hear?"

"A lullaby?" Blayne asked, closing his eyes. Why he wanted to hear her sing was beyond him.

"Ok," Hannah smiled. She cleared her throat and hummed in a clear tone, then sang in a sweet, sweet tone with a slight lilt and pleasant breathiness to it, "See the ship passing by, it'll take you away tonight, so try not to cry as I kiss you goodnight." She smiled and let her voice go the tiniest bit louder. "If you watch as the fish swim away, you'll forget about the toubles of today, so try not to smile when I sing to you tonight." Blayne opened his eyes to see Hannah completely in her element, and he scooted closer to her.

"If you'll please just say goodnight," Hannah sang, hitting notes higher than Blayne had ever heard, "I'll just try one more time. Hush now, and look around, as we say goodnight. When you awake, you'll be okay, sleeping here tonight." She took a deep breath and turned away from Blayne, who's front was nearly touching her back. "I'm sorry, I'm not the best..." she mumbled.

Blayne chuckled. "It was beautiful."

Hannah turned around to see Blayne's face a mere distance from her own. "You...think so?" she whispered.

"Definitely..." he whispered back, and for some reason, when he tilted his head to the side, Hannah backed away suddenly.

"Goodnight, Blayne," she said forcefully. Blayne draped an arm over her and muttered the same thing. Hannah didn't have the heart to remove the warm arm so she let herself fall asleep, unaware of what the next day would bring.


	6. Born to Die

**A/N 1: Sad chapter. You are forewarned. The song to set the theme is Born to Die by Lana Del Rey, though the cover by Lauren Aquilina is by far more superior.**

**A/N 2: This chapter moved very fast, and that's the intention. I'm sorry if it bothers you but I've had these chapters planned from the beginning.**

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><p>Chapter Six: Born to Die<p>

The sun rose like always, and unlike always, Blayne awoke with a warm body in his arms. He used his free hand to rub his eyes, and blinked rapidly. His vision became less blurry and he was faced with a curled up Hannah, sleeping as peacefully as one can in situations that they were in. Blayne wanted to sit up, but at the same, he didn't want to disturb Hannah, who, for once, didn't have worry lines creasing her face. He smiled, mostly to himself, before shaking her lightly, maybe to wake her. At that point he was unsure of a great many things.

She yawned (dare he say cutely?) and, realizing where she was, slid out of the embrace and glared. "Why were you assaulting me in your sleep?" she asked, not noticing something Blayne did.

The two were alone, minus a body laying a few feet away, blood seeping onto the sand. Blayne ignored the girl and stood, checking around the fire. Everything was gone. Everything, even what Hannah and Blayne had, was taken. And seeing as the rest of the supposed 'allies' were gone, he assumed they were to blame.

He grabbed one of the still-sizzling logs of the fire and threw it as far as he could into the ocean. My God, karma just freaking sucks, doesn't it? He crouched to see the body, and raised his eyebrow as he realized it was Connor. It was a warning sign. Hannah, a few feet away, stood and walked around, double-checking to see what they left. Blayne grabbed the silver chain around his neck and breathed slowly, so as to control his anger and not rip Connor's body to shreds.

Hannah bit her lip and said thickly, "We're going to die now." She took one look at Connor's bloodied chest and had to look away, fearing tears would spill down her face.

Blayne shook his head and refrained from saying anything. Being allies with Hannah was becoming a serious problem. He usually solved his problems by punching them. He didn't think that would apply in this situation. "No..." Blayne said. "We have nothing. But we have a hell of a lot more than they do. We have something to fight for."

"What?" Hannah asked, looking out at the rising sun.

"Each other," Blayne admitted, turning to face her.

"Nothing can go on, Blayne," Hannah said softly, turning her head. "Nothing. Nothing is stopping you from killing me or vice versa, and at the end, if it's between you and me-"

"I already told you," Blayne said placatingly. "I told you I would let you win."

"No, you wouldn't," Hannah argued. "You think you care about me. You think that this is something other than a distraction, you think that is something that can last. Blayne, admit you're wrong."

"Wrong?" Blayne questioned, temper rising. "I can't be wrong."

Tensions were high and Blayne knew something was coming. What, he had no clue, but something was coming.

Hannah began to cry. "You can't do this to me," she sobbed, sinking to her knees. "I didn't ask for any of this. I didn't ask for any of this to happen, so why did God let it happen to me?" She fingered her brown leather bracelet and sobbed some more. Blayne was at a loss as to what to do. He sunk to his knees, too, so he was face to face with her.

"I don't know much about faith..." he began. "But I believe in you. And I will believe in you until you breathe your last breath."

"Why is God letting me feel for someone when it's never going to work? Is He testing me?" Hannah whispered as Blayne pulled her into a hug so tight it may have cut off ciruculation. "Ever since I've been reaped I've kept strong. I've managed to keep my composure. But why? I'm going to die. I might as well do whatever I want."

The two sat, Hannah sniffling, until the sun was up and a cannon was fired. Someone was already dead. Hannah wiped her eyes and stood, trying to forget her breakdown not ten minutes earlier. She slipped the leather bracelet off of her wrist and handed it with a firm look to Blayne, who was confused.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"Take it," she smiled sadly. "It's too big anyway."

Blayne unclasped the silver music note necklace from around his neck and handed it to her. She smiled at the pretty note. He slipped the bracelet onto his hand and motioned for her to turn around. He fastened it for her and she admired to piece of jewelry she'd never have if she was back home.

"It's pretty," Hannah smiled.

Silence.

The two heard a rustling in the woods, and something that sounded like voices, and they were off again, running the direction of the Cornicopia. The two were out of breath by the time they reached the Cornicopia, and it appeared someone had made camp there.

"Alex, Austin, and..." Blayne started. He mentally calculated the remaining tributes. Ten died the first day, six the second, and two were dead today. That left a total of eighteen dead, leaving around six tributes left. "...yeah," he finished lamely.

Hannah bit her lip as a rumble was heard in the distance. They moved on past the Cornicopia and kept on walking, knowing they'd get caught in the rain. They began to run once again as the rain began pouring down onto them, Blayne grabbing Hannah's hand to make her run faster. They never managed to find somewhere dry to stand because Blayne grabbed Hannah around her waist and pulled her close, making sure he memorized every feeling, every smell, every taste of the moment.

"What are you doing?" She whispered. "We're going to die if we're seen."

"Not if I kill them first," Blayne grinned, looking up into the rain, letting the rain coat his long, dark eyelashes framing the hazle eyes Hannah couldn't look away from. He smiled and looked at her, smiling for real for the first time, showing off his white teeth. Hannah just shook her head and continued to run, trying to live a little longer.

"Wait!" He called out, realizing he was being left. "Wait..." he said softer, catching up with Hannah. He grabbed her roughly and kissed her, maybe for the last and only time, hard. She was taken aback, but went with it. He pulled back and they finished running until they reached trees, where they carefully stepped into the jungle. Hannah was red.

"Come on take a walk on the wild side, let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain. You like your girls insane, choose your last words, this is the last time. Cause you and I, we were born to die..." Hannah sang softly to herself. Blayne was confused. Why was she singing a District 2 love song?

"How do you know that?" Blayne asked as they crept through the woods, trying to find some kind of food or water source.

"My mother knew all sorts of songs, including Born to Die," Hannah said mysteriously. She grinned as she found a banana tree and she darted up it like a spider monkey, grabbing some yellow ones before sliding back down. Blayne gaped. "Guess I picked up on some things?" She tried, before handing Blayne a banana. The two ate, feeling substanstially less lightheaded after getting some food in them, but still incredibly thirsty.

Hannah and Blayne continued to look for a water source, and the rain was still going pretty hard. They walked in awkward silence, refusing to awknowledge the metaphorical elephant in the room. They planned on just finding a tree to sleep in, but as the sun rose higher, Blayne got more and more anxious. Something was off about them being abandoned by the semi-allies. Something not good. He felt empty without a weapon at his side, so he grabbed a somewhat deadly looking tree branch and kept it beside him. He felt better.

He was about to say something to Hannah when a familiar face closed in on the two. Caleb stood, still looking bedraggled, Hannah's knife in his hand. Tanner and Maia joined him, smirking identically. "Hello, old friends," he smiled, before running and plunging the knife into Hannah's stomach. She watched in horror as her own blood spilled out, and felt herself fade. She felt as her own body fell to the ground, Blayne screaming beside her.

She gasped in pain, and whispered to Blayne, "Sing to me, please, so I can pretend everything will be okay." Tears were streaming down her face, and Blayne was looking sadly as the girl bled. He eyed the ex-allies dangerously before clearing his throat.

"Feet don't fail me now, take me to the finish line. Oh my heart it breaks every step that I take, but I'm hoping at the gates, they'll tell me that you're mine..." Blayne sang, letting his deep voice fill the surrounding area. Tanner made a move to finish Hannah off, but Caleb held him back.

"Walking through the city streets, is it by mistake or design? I feel so alone on these nights. Can you make it feel like home, if I tell you you're mine?" Blayne sang out, voice catching on a few words as Hannah's pulse weakened more and more. He sped up the tempo of the song. "It's like I told you, honey, don't make me sad, don't make me cry. Sometimes love is not enough and the road gets tough, I don't know why. Keep making me laugh, let's go get high, the road is long, we carry on, try to have fun in the meantime."

Only too late Blayne realized that he really felt something for her. Something that in another time, another place, another universe, he could've acted upon, and they would've been happy. He felt tears, for the first time since he was a child, well up in his eyes as Hannah reached for his hand.

"Come on take a walk on the wild side, let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain. You like your girls insane. Choose your last words, this is the last time, cause you and I, we were born to die..." He choked on the word die and Hannah let a few more tears fall down her face.

"Oh God..." she cried out. "Why am I still alive?"

"Sing, Hannah," Blayne whispered. "If you can."

She nodded and sang out, "Lost but now I am found, I can see but once I was blind. I was so confused as a little child-" A gasp and a sob. "-trying to take what I could get, scared that I couldn't find all the answers honey..."

Blayne continued the rest for her, singing, "Don't make me sad, don't make me cry, sometimes love is not enough and the road gets tough, I don't know why. Keep making me laugh, let's go get high, the road is long, we carry on, try to have fun in the meantime..."

Gasps and a moan from Hannah. There wasn't any hope, at all, Blayne realized. For either him or her. She was dying and he was crying. And God, he wished it was nothing but a bad dream.

"Choose your last words..." Blayne sang, and Hannah shushed him.

"If you win..." Hannah said evenly, Blayne looking intently at her. He pressed his lips to her forehead as she breathed out, "Tell my family I'm sorry I couldn't be better."

She took her last breath, breathed her last words, spoke her last thought, looked at Blayne one last time, and she was gone. Blayne, aboslutely furious at everything, something, and nothing, stood with an even nod and stormed over to Tanner, whom he punched sound in the face. Caleb wielded the knife at Blayne, who seemed too livid to even care.

A cannon fired.

"Don't push me," he gritted out, remembering the same words that he uttered not a week ago. Could it have been only a few days? Only a few days where he had gained something incredibly valuable, only to loose it in the long run? He glared and clenched his fist, looking in Caleb's eyes as he cracked his neck, then shoved him into the nearest tree, effectively killing him. He grabbed his knife.

A second cannon was heard.

"I'm going to take her away from you," Blayne said, pointing to Maia, who was holding onto Tanner's hand like it was a lifeline. So that's why they were always allies. They'd had something from the start. "Like you destroyed Hannah." He lunged for Maia, planning to crush her lungs against a tree, but Tanner jumped in front of her, meaning Blayne was killing Tanner and not Maia. Oh well. The more deaths, the better.

He looked into Tanner's eyes as he killed him, and before he finished Tanner off with Caleb's knife, he said, "I hope, for your sake, where Hannah is is extremely accepting and they'll let you in." One quick motion and Tanner was dead and bleeding. Maia was trying not to cry hysterically.

"You're a mad man," she uttered, before running to Blayne and grabbing the knife out of his hands. The two fought, and Blayne had to admit she was strong. As strong as any guy he'd ever met, and she was a girl. Maia wouldn't give up the knife and it nearly caused her to be killed, but she was careful as Blayne pulled back and tried to stab her in the neck. She ducked and he only scraped her back, and Maia grinned as lunged for the knife again.

"I'm never wrong, dammit," Blayne said with tears in his eyes. He collapsed on the ground and looked up at Maia expectantly. "I'm never wrong."

She had the knife, and was hovering over him with a strange look on her face. "Are those your last words?" She asked, before raising an eyebrow.

"No," Blayne said, putting his hands behind his back. "My last words are these. I'll save you a seat in hell."

Maia glared, reared back, and stabbed him in the heart once, and then in his temple. Blayne's last thought was that Hannah had the prettiest voice he'd ever heard. And then everything went numb.

**END OF PART ONE.**

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><p><strong>AN 3: Taking a minor hiatus until I can find time to post again. It'll be a week or two at most. I hate to leave you hanging but I need a break from angst and sadness!**


	7. Somebody That I Used To Know

**A/N: I said I'd be on a week hiatus...but I was going to see the musical Wicked this weekend with my school choir and it was canceled, so I'm pouring my heart into my writing so as to fill the hole in it. :)**

Chapter 7: Somebody That I Used To Know

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

A slight cough. A sniffle. Something was poking into his arm...and it smelled very clean. Too clean.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Wait...was this heaven? So Hannah was here? Subconsciously, Blayne grinned, still seeing dark. Why were there beeps in heaven? That's odd...

"Are you awake?" A voice said, sounding quite feminine, but not exactly incredibly high either. Now he was incredibly confused. Why would he be awake in heaven? In Blayne's opinion, sleep was heaven. He began to see a bright white light and he opened his eyes, only to be faced with a stark white ceiling. He squinted and looked at himself. He appeared to be in one piece, and when feeling his head, no evidence of the wound seemed to be felt.

He looked around. He seemed to be on a white bed, covered by white sheets, and in a white room. Blayne looked to his right and saw that a medium height girl was sitting there, arms crossed expectantly.

"Finally," she groaned. "My God, everyone else has been up for hours." She reached over and pulled out his IV drip.

"Uh, what?" Blayne asked, rubbing his eyes. She had on square glasses and her dark brown hair was cut in long, choppy layers, with various unnatural colors mixed in. Blayne spotted red, purple, blue, and pink after once glance. She was glaring slightly and she was wearing Capitol-esque clothes. However, among the unnaturality, she seemed to be equally natural. It was an odd but not unpleasant mix.

The girl smirked. "You are on your way to District 13, Blayne Bentley Hummel," she grinned. "You see, my darlingest daddy-" she snorted and rolled her eyes- "is one of the Gamemakers. Ferdinand Pugh?" Blayne nodded. He was the one with the dark brown hair and the long nose. "Before this year's games, he told me that he was planning on letting me control some of the Games. I was both disgusted and offended. I mean, I'm all for being yourself, but I am not a muderer."

Blayne grinned as she continued to talk, "So I concocted a plan. I tampered with the arena, making everything synthetic- kind of. While the events actually happened, nothing actually happened. Do you comprehend?" She asked. Blayne nodded, trying to follow. "When you 'die' in the arena, and the Capitol picks you up, it's actually me. I take you to District 13, where you are going now, and rehabilitate you until we get there."

"Why are you taking all of the tributes there? And I could've sworn that District 13 was destroyed."

"Well, actually, a few people from each District come here every year..." the girl contradicted. "It's being kept underwraps. As long as no one suspects, it's all good. And why you're here, you ask?" She smirked and handed him some pants, shirt, and shoes. "Go to the bathroom and put these on, and I'll tell you."

"Should I trust some random girl I don't know the name of?" Blayne questioned, more awake now. She raised an eyebrow.

"Touche," she smiled. "My name is Cortney. Go put on clothes. Please."

Blayne groaned and stretched, walking over to the small room she had pointed to. It was a bathroom. He quickly slipped out of the standard white Capitol pajamas and into the jeans, tee shirt, and what appeared to be boat shoes. Another Capitol fashion apparently. He ran a comb through his thick and unruly curly hair and stared at himself in the mirror.

If all of the tributes were here...would any of them resent him for killing them? Would they hate him? And what about Hannah? Questions stormed his mind and he had to take a moment to calm his thoughts. He sighed a deep and shuddering breath and realized that the leather bracelet was still on his wrist. Hannah's token. He smiled and ran a finger over it. He remembered the few days he'd spent in the arena. It was both the best and worst time of his life.

But maybe worse and better times were approaching in the days to come. He didn't know what he was doing here. He wasn't even supposed to be alive. But thanks (or no thanks) to Cortney, he had another chance. He just wasn't sure if he wanted it yet. He opened the heavy wooden door leading back into the white room to find Cortney standing. She wasn't as short as Hannah.

Blayne missed towering over her. And after knowing her for a week, he could honestly say that he was both confused and kind of pleased with all the constant feelings he had when he was around her. A week. It couldn't have only been a week when they were together, right? Then again, stressful situations did things to some people. Cortney grinned and said, "I'll lead you to where the other tributes are. Don't worry, I've talked to them about not hating you. While some have resentment, they don't exactly hate you."

"I should be thrilled," Blayne said sarcastically. Cortney smirked and led him out of the door and into a long, white hallway that curved slightly, as if he was in a circle. She led him a little ways down to a large door, larger than the others, and ushered him in. Sitting around small round tables were a few of the tributes. Tanner was there, looking tense and staring at the tray of food before him. Beside him were Connor and Caleb, talking to each other quietly, not knowing how to respond in this situation.

When Blayne spotted Tiffany, he rushed over to her and engulfed her in a hug. She looked both shocked and strangely happy at seeing him, and she hugged him back. "When I was taken here," she smiled once they pulled away, "I watched the version of the Games the Capitol saw. Apparently Tanner was a fan favorite, and you and Hannah were the most trending topic in the Capitol," she said knowingly. "Any input on that statement?"

"Where is Hannah exactly?" Blayne asked, scanning the room. It seemed only some of the tributes were there...

"I have no clue," she admitted. "At this point I don't really care, but I saw her once. She was on her way back to her room."

"Which is where?" Blayne asked. He needed to talk to her. He still couldn't ignore what happened in the arena. In the half-hour or so he'd been awake, it was all he could think about. Well, except food. He scanned the room to find something like a vending machine and got some chips out of it, walking back over to Tiffany, who raised her eyebrows.

"You know they have a gourmet kitchen, right?" She asked.

"Uh...no," Blayne said, drawing out his words as if to insult her intelligence.

"They do," Tiffany sassed back, standing to go somewhere-or-another; at this point, Blayne hardly cared where Tiffany was going. He ate his chips in record time before tossing the wrapper in the trash and turning to leave. But someone caught his arm.

"Look," Tanner started, turning Blayne around. "Hannah is most likely not going to talk about what happened in the arena. In fact, she's probably forgotten you in a heartbeat."

"Why?" Blayne asked. "Why do you care?"

"I'm her stepbrother," Tanner said. "And I told her to."

Blayne felt a cold chill run down his spine. Tanner was Hannah's stepbrother. It explained a lot, really, how Tanner never seemed to jump at the chance to kill her like he did other tributes...and how Tanner hated him ever since he denied the request to be allies with him, and not Hannah.

"Look, I-" Blayne started.

"Save it," Tanner said. "She needs someone who won't cause her to go more insane than she already is. She's unstable enough without being with someone more unstable than she is."

"She seemed perfectly stable to me..." Blayne countered.

"Depends on your definition of stable," Tanner argued back. "Yes, she acts like everything's all good, but you don't hold her in her room while she cries because she has bruises from someone pushing her into a doorway. Everything's not alright upstairs with her. She's getting more guarded, Blayne," Tanner said, almost warned. "So she doesn't need someone equally as guarded. You'll make her worse."

"I'm not unstable or guarded," Blayne sighed. "You're just delusional."

Tanner raised his eyebrows and took a step towards Blayne. "What?" He glared.

Cortney, who apparently had overheard the whole conversation, rushed over, pulling Blayne away from Tanner. "Okay..." she said awkwardly. "As much fun as it is to see two guys beat the crap out of each other, I have to say you shouldn't do that. At least until we get to District 13. Then you can go at it all you want." She pulled Blayne out of the room and looked him in the eye.

"You want to talk to Hannah, right?" Cortney questioned.

"Of course," Blayne said.

"Well, I can take you to her room now or later..." Cortney trailed off.

"I don't care, I just want to see her," Blayne breathed out.

"Fine," Cortney said, motioning for him to follow her. Blayne trailed behing curiously and made note of the number on her door: 8. Cortney knocked and a lilting voice said, "Who is it?"

"It's Cortney," she said soothingly. "You can let me in."

The door opened and Blayne followed, shocked, into Hannah's room. It wasn't white. The walls were painted a soft yellow and indie music was playing in the background. Hannah was laying on her bed, writing something down. She looked up to see Blayne and paled. "Hi?" She tried, before grabbing a baggy sweater and pulling it over her head, trying to reach the bathroom. Cortney grabbed her shoulders and made her face Blayne.

"Talk about it. Now. Before Tanner goes ballistic because you won't let anyone talk to you. He already thinks you're unstable, don't add fuel to the flames." Cortney left the room, keeping the door cracked.

The fifteen year old looked at the seventeen year old and said, "I'm sorry."

"What for?" Blayne asked.

"For just...I don't know," Hannah fumbled. "I'm just sorry."

"I'm not," Blayne said.

"I'm not the girl I pretended to be in the arena. The one who had it all together, the one who knew what to do...that's not me. I'm not that girl. And that's the girl you liked, so I'm sorry I fooled you." She sat down on her bed, folding her legs into herself, looking younger than she actually was. It made Blayne feel like a cradle robber.

"What do you mean?" Blayne asked, sitting beside Hannah.

"I'm just not that girl..." Hannah said. "Not sure how else to explain it..."

"What did Tanner mean when he said you were unstable?" Blayne asked. Now he was seriously concerned this girl was mental.

Hannah began laughing hysterically and Blayne scooted away a few centimeters. Oh Lord, he does like his girls insane...

"Tanner thinks anyone is unstable if they show emotion," Hannah explained. "If I laugh at a joke he thinks I'm unstable. He thinks showing emotion is completely pointless for some reason..." Hannah continued. "Why, I have no clue. It's just the way he is. The Games made it ten times worse."

"While we're on that subject, let's talk about how we owe Cortney our lives, literally," a voice interrupted, followed by Cortney's form walking back into the room. "I'm here to tell you lunch will be served in half an hour. Be there or starve, see if I care." She walked out and Blayne knew she really did care; if she didn't, why where they alive?

Hannah grinned and slowly began messing with the sleeve of her oversized green sweater. Her outfit was just odd- a large sweater, small shorts, and white canvas shoes. But she seemed to be comfortable, so Blayne didn't question it. "Can we just start over?" she asked quietly.

"I-" Blayne started. He didn't want to start over. He wanted to pick right back up where they were. This was frustrating. "I...sure."

"I'm Hannah," she smiled, sticking out her hand.

"Blayne," he said stiffly. This was what happens when you feel things. Blayne decided that since they were starting over, maybe they shouldn't end up together this time. He stood and said, "I'm going to go get lunch."

"I'm not hungry," Hannah smiled.

"I didn't ask if you were," Blayne said, a little more cold than Hannah was expecting.

"Well...maybe you'll be in a better mood after you get food..." she tried, biting her lip. She walked him to her door and said, "I'll see you later?"

Blayne wished he could come up with some snappy reply, but all he said was "Sure." He walked out into the hallway, realizing he had no idea where lunch was being served. He assumed that he'd figure it out on his own. Like usual.

Was this his new normal? Being confused, questioning every word people said, feeling things? If so, he didn't like it. He didn't like it one bit.

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